Idolatry
by PikaCheeka
Summary: Isaak's obsession with godhood combined with Dietrich's obsession with death makes for strange bedmates. Yet another Isaak x Dietrich darkfic.


A/N – Another Isaak x Dietrich darkfic. M/R for rape and sacrilege. It's actually four separate monologues that share the same theme and together make a fic. Yea, uhm, really dark, so you've been warned. It's not exactly graphic, but it's very much a rape-fic.

Dietrich was born in 3042, therefore in 3054 he is twelve and in 3062, twenty. The first two fics here describe the same incident, taking place in 3054 (Monologue II is meant to be a little confusing). The second two fics describe a second incident happening eight years later when their relationship again changes. I think it's pretty straight-forward, so you should be able to pick up what's going on in the fourth bit.

Idolatry

By PikaCheeka

I. Isaak, 3054

When I am with him it is not sin. There cannot be sin when there is no conscience. And when I am with him there is no conscience or thought or moral or even conscious. He frees me from that degradation. From the doubt and the fear and the uncertainty and the guilt that having a filthy conscience brings with it. It is only afterwards, when I hear him cry and see him bleed, that it becomes a sin. But if I do it enough I may finally be able to destroy that last horrific shadow of a conscience that still possesses me from time to time. I love him desperately. He is my savior. When I am with him there is no sin. There is no thought, no shadow. It is all body, all purity.

II. Dietrich, 3054, same moment

It should not hurt this badly. It is just my body and I am so much more than just my body but I know it is more than my body that he owns no matter what I tell myself with one hand on my hip and the other holding my leg to his shoulder. I can tolerate pain and blood and agony and torture as it isn't really me that you're hurting. But you hurt me beyond that. You take what is not yours what was never meant to be yours what was never meant to be anyone's but my own. And then, he, you, Isaak, hits that part of me directly attached to that inside-me. And I know that I have lost just as the cry erupts from my lips and the tears finally break from my eyes. I tried. I tried so hard not to cry tonight and you still broke me. Still touched that deepdown place and now I know you will keep going and going until there is no more Dietrich, only Isaak and Isaak's possession which is really Isaak again. You know how much it breaks me you will never let me get away without climaxing and you use whatever drugs and force it takes to make my body betray me. To make my body stop protecting me and then I am open (why I do not understand because with you inside you touch your own deepdown place without my having to do anything but accept and take and bleed and isn't that enough isn't it enough that you have my body why must you have that too). The deepinsidesecretme, I am open to your assault and you will not stop until you take that Dietrich away and kill him. Kill him every night every time I climax under your body you kill him kill me because he vanishes and there is Isaak there Isaak an Idol to the God of Death inside what was Dietrich once. I am gone and dead if for only a second that secret me that secret Dietrich no one can touch stops being mine because when that happens the I is gone, Dietrich is gone, and I never was but will be again just so I can noteverbe again tomorrow night. Dietrich has known death beneath you, Isaak.

III. Dietrich, 3062, eight years later

The fury comes and goes in waves, too powerful to ignore but too lumbering and stupid to act upon. Everything about it is disgustingly, terribly wrong, but I still succumb to it, still come to him like a stray bitch in heat needing something, anything to end the torment. He was my father, the only father who ever acknowledged my existence so even though he adopted me, he is, and not just was, my father. And he had already forced himself upon me when I was too young, too dumb, to know what was happening. He raped me so many times, killed me and made what was left into him so many times, and still I fantasize about him, touch and hurt myself to thoughts of him. My lust for him consumes me and haunts me and drives me into a fury. He says it isn't me, says it's because he hurt me that I feel this way, says he won't hurt me more because I'm too stupid to know the difference. But he can't possibly know this fury. It is as real as and maybe more powerful than the love I feel for him, this fury that he can never know. The wild Bacchic fury and the devouring need to be with he-who-is-my-god. The fury of the dumb idolatry of Isaak. Every time he left an idol there instead of me, Every time. Every time I died he left an idol at my grave.

IV. Isaak, 3062, an hour later

With him there is no sin. With him I am a god.


End file.
